The Strength to Try
by Razzy
Summary: EC. Her heart chose the man cloaked in shadow. His heart ached for the woman shining with light.  It will take more than love to hold them to each other: only the thread of faith can stitch the wounds ripped in their souls.
1. Chapter 1

**PROLOGUE**:

Erik gazed at the dazzling ring, set with beautiful stones that glittered brightly even in the dim light of his lair. He held the broken chain the ring was bound by out at a distance from his face and could scarcely contain the emotion that seared through his veins. The boy had proposed to her. That foolish, arrogant, self-centered boy had seen that Christine was a rare treasure indeed, one that he wanted to own for himself. It had not been difficult for him to earn a soft spot in her heart. After all, they had been childhood friends, together in the only period of Christine's life that Erik did not know.

To Christine, Raoul represented a gateway to happier times. To the blissful life that she had once known before her father passed away. Erik knew all too well just how hard the child had taken the death of her father, and perhaps he had played on that grief just a little in the beginning. Just the same, her attachment to the boy could only stem from some deep longing in her heart to reclaim the happy world of her childhood. She certainly was not prepared to marry him. She barely knew him, after all. Many years had passed since their parting, and only a handful of months since their reunion. If she had truly gotten to know him as an adult, Erik was certain Christine would not be so willing to wed.

But she had accepted the ring.

This simple knowledge burned at the very core of Erik's heart, and his foggy blue eyes glared fiercely at the gaudy trinket he held before him. That blasted boy had only set out to claim Christine for what he saw of her on stage. There was no denying that Christine was an angel, and that she was indeed set apart from the rest of wretched humanity. But that boy didn't care in the least for what was truly beneath her angelic exterior. He couldn't possibly comprehend and appreciate the true beauty in the depths of her soul. That boy could not love her as she deserved to be loved.

And she had accepted him anyway.

Images of the night on the rooftop flashed once again through Erik's dark mind, and his fist clenched ever tighter around the broken chain. Yes, Christine had been frightened. She had never responded well to death, and the murder of Joseph Buquet, especially since she knew who was responsible, was bound to be unsettling. But Erik had only done what was necessary, and his only regret was the terror he had invoked in his beloved's heart. Her words still rang through his mind, and he was convinced that she did not understand what she was dealing with.

Christine had been frightened, and she did not wish to witness the death of her childhood friend, her living link to her past happiness. She had feared that Erik would have struck the boy down, just as Buquet had been dealt with. That was her entire reason for bringing the boy up to the roof in the first place. And yet Raoul had responded to her with disbelief, and a patronizing sort of concern. He ignored her insistence that the Phantom of the Opera existed. Despite Christine's terrified insistence, he refused to respect her enough to believe her. He simply convinced her that her reaction was foolish. He had warped her mind to believe that his presence in her life was far more important than anything else on her mind. She had been reluctant to fall into his trap, and fall into his arms. Despite her fear, Erik had heard her inability to completely condemn her Angel of Music to a creature of evil. He was convinced the true feelings in her heart had still tugged her toward her beloved teacher, away from the boy standing before her,

And yet she had still turned away from Erik, to Raoul.

Despite his earlier impertinence, the boy had come to believe in the Phantom at this point. Erik's appearance at the Masquerade had seen to that. As soon as the Phantom had made his presence known, the boy had left Christine's side, abandoning her to what he was certain was danger. Raoul had thought to leave so he might obtain a weapon with which to confront the Phantom, more concerned with proving his own dominance than Christine's safety. As for Christine… Erik had seen it in her eyes: she was still drawn to him. She was still in his power, although she didn't realize it. His tremendous command and control over his own emotions had nearly slipped away from him when he saw that longing in her questioning and frightened eyes, and he had almost forgotten his fury at her betrayal on the rooftop. But then the shine of the obnoxious engagement ring had caught his eye, and his compassion evaporated. She had betrayed him, yes. But there was time enough to mend that situation. It was that blasted boy that controlled her now, that arrogant fop that needed to be punished for leading Erik's beloved angel astray.

Slowly, Erik released his hold on the broken chain and let the ring drop onto the top of his desk. Absently thumbing the chain's imprints left behind in the soft black leather of his glove, he rose and strode to the doorway of his small bedroom, donning a thick cloak before heading out. The black fabric billowed out behind him as he made his way through the candlelit lair and mulled several plans of action over in his head. Christine would return to him if that boy was not there. If he could somehow steal enough time alone with her, she would realize who she truly belonged to. The time of waiting was at an end, and Erik knew what he must do.

He was going to see Christine.

**Author's Note**: My first attempt at writing PoTO fiction. I posted this story some time ago, but decided it was in desperate need of a re-write. So I'm going through and re-doing the story to clean it up, chapter by chapter. The original story has been taken off so I can re-post this one. I suppose I'm re-editing my old stuff in an attempt to improve my writing style. Anyway, the story was finished several years ago, so I doubt anyone remembers it and will notice that this is a re-post. Expect an update once a week, occurring every Tuesday. Happy reading!

**Disclaime**r: I do not own any of the characters from Phantom of the Opera, nor do I own the songs referenced in the story.


	2. Learn to Forgive

A/N: Some quick notes: when Erik sings, his lines are in bold. When Christine sings, her lines are in italics. When they both sing, their lines are in bold italics. Makes sense, ne? Anyway, read on.

**Chapter 1: Learn to Forgive**

A quick search of the Opera House soon revealed that Christine was nowhere to be found. Erik's brow furrowed as he loomed about the dark, empty chapel. She was not in her room with the other ballet rats, and Erik had just completed his search of her various other hideouts within the Opera Populaire. Where was she? It was far too late at night for her to have wandered off somewhere outside the theater, wasn't it? The only place he had yet to investigate was the dressing room Christine occasionally used when given more significant roles. It was the same room where he had first appeared to her, taking her through the mirror with him into darkness.

The familiar chill in Erik's heart began to pulse through his veins as he made his way towards the dressing room. He had not even considered being unable to locate her. What if she wasn't in the opera house at all? What if she had gone off with that boy? He scowled as he swept through the hallways in shadow. How fitting it would be that Christine, the only light that had ever managed to break through the cemented walls of his dark heart would be pulled away as quietly as it had arrived. Perhaps it was only folly for him to continue his late night search for her. Perhaps it was best that he let his angel fly on her own, abandoning him to solitude. He had no right to ask her to stay in his world of confinement. His was a life of disappointment, and darkness, after all.

Not bothering to slip into the hidden passageways of the shadows behind the mirror, Erik chose a more direct entrance into what he was certain would be an empty dressing room. Feeling foolish for continuing his futile search, Erik laid his hand upon the doorknob and softly turned it. His breath caught in his throat when he found the door to be unlocked, and he carefully pushed the door open a crack to peer inside.

Christine was indeed inside the dressing room. She was clothed in a black lace mourning dress, and was just finishing the tie of her cloak about her throat. Erik lingered in the doorway for a moment, confusion sparking in his hazy eyes. What was she up to? She smoothed out the ruffles of her dress and stood in front of her mirror for a prolonged moment. With a trembling hand, she touched the surface of the glass, staring longingly past her own reflection.

"Angel," she breathed the word so softly that it was barely a whisper, but her breath left a small smear on the cold mirror before her. Erik's earlier fury at her betrayal softened as he watched the longing and sadness grow in her eyes. The desolation that had been creeping through his thoughts only moments ago faded into the tender affection she stirred within him. His dear Christine simply did not understand what she was getting herself into. Her mind told her that a life of wealth and comfort with that boy was what any girl should want, so of course she felt she could not refuse it. But her heart, reflected in those sad brown eyes was longing for something quite different.

**Christine…**

He sang her name softly, knowing that his voice would project around the room. She stiffened, and let her hand drop away from the mirror. She looked around wildly, but she could not keep her gaze from returning to the mirror. Christine shook her head slowly and backed away, utter confusion overtaking her beautiful face. Erik silently closed the door and walked away from the dressing room purposefully. Judging from her attire, Christine was intending to make a late night trip to the cemetery this winter's night. She would once again seek solace from a man long deceased, and her angel of music would once again appear to lead her back into the world of the living.

Erik ensured that he was several paces ahead of his beloved as he heard the sound of her dressing room door close when she at last was able to leave. He passed into the courtyard, quickly finding his way to the stables. Christine would not be alone this night, and she would not have to suffer another silent confrontation with her dead father in solitude. Erik could not bear the thought of his precious Christine feeling alone, feeling the utter despair and isolation that he had been forced to suffer throughout his entire life.

It took little effort for Erik to deal with the driver that had been on shift for the night, and he worked quickly to cover his face with his cloak. Christine had appeared and requested to be brought to the cemetery, and she absently took her seat in the back of the wooden carriage. Erik turned to glance at her over his shoulder, fixing his gaze on her distant expression. Yes, she was most certainly troubled over the events of late. He started the horses and their journey into winter began.

Some small part of his mind tugged at Erik to veer off course, to simply take Christine far away from Paris and from that De Chagny boy. She was completely at his mercy now, and he knew that her mind still belonged to him. And yet, he knew that she would not have risked a late night journey to the graveyard on her own if her soul was not deeply troubled. He had been by her side through her grieving process for her father for so long; he could not deny her the chance to put her mind and heart at ease.

Yet another creeping thought poisoned his already twisted mind. What right did he have to be so involved in the affairs of this young lady's soul? What right did he have to comfort her? He had no right to be near her, to taint the pure light of Christine's mind. He was a monster, a creature of darkness. If he truly loved her, he should give her up to that rich boy, to a life he knew she would be secure in. His time in her life had served a purpose, and he had taught her to sing, to hope, and to believe in her own strength. Now, his time with her had come to an end. He simply had no right to remain here, and certainly no right to draw her back to him, to pull her away from a life of light. The kindest course of action at this point would be for him to drop her off at the cemetery and simply drive away.

Bitter thoughts were coursing through his mind when the reached the cemetery gates. He couldn't entertain delusions about one day earning Christine's love any longer. She had believed he was an angel, and that was the sole reason she was enchanted with him. Once she had found out that he was simply a man, she had deserted him and run off with someone else. And as much as this truth tore at his heart, Erik could not bring himself to blame her. He had never been seen as anything more than a devil, and he should be grateful for time he had stolen with this angel.

Once Christine exited the carriage and began walking slowly towards her father's tomb, Erik led the horses away to the far side of the graveyard. Now was the time to act on the love he felt so strongly for this girl. Now was the time to simply leave, and accept his dark fate of solitude. And yet, the angelic chime of her voice drifting along the mist held him frozen in place. The pain in her voice was colder than the snow softly touching his face. Erik closed his eyes. He could not leave her in such a state of sorrow. Yet, how could he comfort her? How could he possibly approach her now? How could he tell her she was not as isolated as she believed herself to be? She deserved so much more than the company he could provide.

Erik could not bring himself to leave. The words and music of her song captivated him as they always had, and he slowly began to drift among the graves as she sang. Already knowing her destination, Erik silently crept atop the mausoleum that she was drawn to, and waited for her to arrive. He watched her delicate figure walking through the mist and the snow. She was so lost, so confused, and his heart went out to her. He could forgive her anything, including her betrayal of him, at this point. All he wanted to do was take her pain away somehow.

_Try to forgive_

_Teach me to live  
Give me the strength to try…_

Her words struck something fundamental within the fibers of Erik's being. Was she still singing to her father's memory? She had never once asked for forgiveness from the ghost of her past. Who could she be directing those words toward?

_No more memories_  
_No more silent tears_  
_No more gazing across the wasted years_  
_Help me say goodbye_  
_Help me say goodbye_

Erik watched as she sank to the cold stone steps before her father's tomb and was overcome by the mist surrounding her. She desperately needed something, and he was the only person who cared enough about her to be with her now. Feeling a surge of confidence emerge from the unfamiliar warmth of compassion inside his heart, he softly added his voice to the night to answer her.

**Wandering child**  
**So lost**  
**So helpless**  
**Yearning for my guidance**

Christine did not react in fear, nor did she seem altogether surprised. She simply raised her head to gaze towards the sound of his song.

_Angel or father?_  
_Friend or Phantom?_  
_Who is it there, staring?_

His heart constricted at her confused questioning. He knew it was his own fault that she no longer knew what to make of him, and could not understand who he was and what role he played in her life. Erik's mind raced for a moment, desperately trying to decide which answer he should give her. The Phantom was a persona he used for power, to force a place into the world above. That was not the role he wished Christine to associate with him. He certainly did not wish to be a father figure to her. Two options remained. He was her friend and her Angel, always had been, and always would be.

**Have you forgotten your angel?**

She slowly rose at the sound of his familiar voice, a look of relief touching upon her feathers. Christine's voice soon joined the tune the two of them sang so well in unison.

_Angel, oh speak_  
_What endless longings_  
_Echo in this whisper?_

Warmth continued to spread through Erik's frozen heart, and his voice swelled with confidence and power. Christine did love him. His power over her had held, and her devotion and trust for her angel remained. She did not want to desert him. His anger for her betrayal evaporated, and compassion entered his song.

**Too long you've wandered in winter**  
**Far from my far reaching gaze**

Christine moved forward, searching for the angel's voice calling to her. A glow lit her face as she shook her head, struggling with the conflict inside her. She feared him, feared what the Phantom of the Opera had done. He was a murderer, and he only desired to own her. His obsession with her was terrifying, and she should leave while she still could. Still, her heart reached out to him, forcing her to move forward through the snow.

_Wildly my mind beats against you…_

She was trying to stop, trying to convince herself that she had no place here. Instead of leaving, however, she found that she was singing in unison with her unseen angel, weaving the threads of song that had strung their souls together.

**You resist**  
**But your soul obeys**/_But the soul obeys_  
_**Angel of music**_  
**You denied me**/_I denied you_  
_**Turning from true beauty**_  
_**Angel of music**_  
**Do not shun me**/_My protector_  
**Your strange angel**/_Come to me strange angel_  
**I am your Angel of music**  
**Come to me Angel of music**

Christine stood waiting, knowing it was almost beyond her power to leave. Erik's enticing spell had been cast, and his voice rendered her motionless. Now was the time for him to show himself, to approach her. She moved forward, seeking the angel she believed would protect her. If it was an angel she desired, Erik knew he would do everything in his power to become that angel. He would always protect and guard her. He would give anything in his life to make her happy.

Before Christine walked into the open mausoleum, Erik swept down from the rooftop and gracefully landed behind her. He was no longer her unseen angel, merely a voice in the shadow. Christine must now accept that he was a man as well, willing to devote his very soul to her happiness. The two stood inches apart, and confusion beat behind Christine's dark eyes. A mortal stood before her, and their eyes locked. So many unspoken questions passed between them in that moment, burning with a mixture of terror and desire.

"What will you do, Christine?" Erik's voice was soft but demanding of an answer. She needed to commit to a decision to be with him or to walk away.

"Angel, who are you?" Christine replied helplessly. "Where did you come from? And why have you chosen me?" She turned her head away, unable to bear the weight of his masked gaze. Erik maintained a tight composure on himself. He could not allow her to read his face, could not allow her to understand how intense his emotions were at the moment.

"I am only what you see before you now," he answered blandly. "And you have seen where I come from."

"But what does that mean?" Christine shook her head, confusion and desperation etching her pale features. "Don't you even have a name?"

"Yes," he replied, carefully watching her face. "Erik." Christine's defiant façade crumbled before him, and she looked weak as she shivered in the snow.

"Erik," she repeated. Hearing his voice on her lips sent a shiver through his soul.

"What do you want, Christine?" Erik's tone grew softer now, and he gingerly traced a gloved hand along her cheek. "Do you want to say goodbye? Do you wish to leave me and the Opera behind?" Christine seemed to grow weaker with each question he asked, and he placed a hand on her arm to give her some balance.

"Erik," she weakly spoke his name again. "I don't know. I don't want to leave the Opera. I don't want to stop singing. And I'm so tired of saying goodbye..." Tears brimmed in her dark brown eyes as she at last looked Erik in the eye once more. "You frighten me so," she whispered.

"Why?" he drew her closer to him, wrapping his own cloak about her to shield her from the snow and the cold wind.

"You're always there, singing songs in my head," she whispered.

"Christine," he breathed, feeling the warmth of her underneath his cloak. He pulled her to him and laid his cheek against the top of her head, reveling in the scent of her hair. She did not resist, she did not grow tense in his embrace. Instead, she leaned into him, lost and yearning for someone to turn to. And he would always protect her, always be the one to guard her from the pain of loneliness, as long as she would allow him to.

Underneath the folds of his cloak, Erik slipped a hand into his pocket and fingered the item he had placed there in contemplation, in a brief moment of hope. Now he would act on that hope. He slipped the small object into her hand, and released her from his embrace. Erik walked several paces away from her, not turning back to see her reaction to his gift to her. He stood with his back turned, unable to guess at the meaning behind the gasp that escaped her lips.

He had given her a ring of his own.

A/N: So there you have it: Chapter one. A note about the version I used of "Wandering Child"… Erik uses the phrase "far from my fathering gaze" in the movie, but I decided to go with the line from the musical instead, and use "far from my far reaching gaze." It fit better with my story. Anyways, what do you think? Reviews are quite welcome. –Revised 10/2/07-


	3. To Live is to Hope

**Chapter 2: To Live is to Hope**

The sound of rapidly approaching hoof beats broke into the misty silence that had settled between Erik and Christine. Erik glanced over his shoulder to see an approaching white horse, with a rider he had no desire to encounter. Quickly gathering his splintered thoughts, Erik turned back to face Christine. His expression was unreadable.

"Your would-be suitor has come for you," his melodic voice was soft and cold. Despite the chill in his tone, the familiar warmth of fury burned through Erik's mind, ignited by the sight of Raoul DeChagny. He fought the impulse to simply cloak Christine in his embrace and steal her away, taking her to the carriage at the edge of the graveyard, and then hide her away with him forever in his dark lair. But the bond he had just re-established with his angel was too tender, too tenuous to risk right now. He could not risk pushing her soul away from him when it had only so hesitantly returned.

"Erik," Christine whispered his name in a trembling voice as she held his gaze. He could tell by the pleading look in her eyes that she was more than a little overwhelmed by all that had transpired, yet she did not move away from him.

"Christine!" Raoul's voice rang out into the chill night, a sharp invasion in the quiet cemetery. Christine jerked at the sound, and her attention shifted from Erik toward her childhood friend. Erik stiffened as she turned away from him, but he fought to maintain control. With a few simple steps he was by her side once more, and now he too faced the approaching boy. While his self control was tight enough to resist taking Christine away with him, there was little he could do to hide the seething anger in his eyes.

"Who shall you return with?" Erik's voice was quiet, yet rough with fire. Raoul's appearance had shattered the perfect moment he had shared with his angel. Perhaps the boy had even shattered the spell Erik had cast on Christine's heart only moments ago. The reality of a choice was now literally standing before Christine, and Erik's fury was burning inside him with every heartbeat. Perhaps she would choose Raoul, perhaps not. Either way, he had no intentions of stepping down just yet.

"Get away from him!" Raoul cried out as he quickly dismounted and drew his sword.

"Raoul!" Christine's beautiful voice was strained with alarm. It was easy for her to see the thinly veiled anger Erik was fighting to control, and she knew any direct confrontation on Raoul's part would only result in a foolish swordfight between the two of them. The pleading look she gave Erik went unnoticed as his control shattered and he drew his own sword in response to the boy's challenge. Christine desperately looked from one to the other in disbelief. How could they possibly be contemplating violence on her behalf? "Stop!" She insisted, placing a hand on Erik's arm and fixing her stare to Raoul.

"Once again I find you intruding into affairs you have no part in," Erik spoke icily, not heeding the hand on his arm. All he saw now was Raoul, the boy who threatened to unravel any chance Erik had at happiness. Christine hesitantly withdrew her hand, seeing his transformation from her Angel of Music to the Phantom of the Opera. Her withdraw drew Raoul's eyes to her, and slowly understanding crossed his gaze. She was dressed in a mourning dress, in the cemetery before her father's grave. Raoul's mind raced to several conclusions.

"Christine!" Raoul continued to speak only to her, denying Erik the dignity of addressing him directly. "Whatever you believe, this man –this thing- is not your father!"

"Of course not!" Christine shook her head forcefully. "Oh Raoul, what must you be thinking of me? Don't you understand me at all?" Desperation laced her voice, and Erik tensed even more as he observed the interaction between the two of them.

"Christine, this monster has manipulated you!" Raoul shook his head, hoping she would realize she had been blinded by the Phantom's spell. "You're not safe as long as he lives, my darling Christine. Hurry and come away from him! I can help you to escape from his world of darkness, just as you asked me to." Raoul's words broke the final restraints of Erik's rage as memories of Christine's words to the boy on the rooftop that fateful night came back to him. He would not let her be led away again! Erik leapt toward the arrogant boy who dared steal away his angel, and the two were soon engaged in a furious swordfight.

"No!" Christine cried out as their swords clashed and the two men were momentarily eye to eye. Erik's heart raced with unleashed anger and he pushed forward with all the strength he could summon. Still the boy persisted, and was able to evade the power of the Phantom's attack. Raoul only grunted as he managed to pull out of the stalemate the two created, and winced as a streak of blood appeared on his arm.

Erik's mind grew hazy with fury as the boy came at him once more in full force. Once again he found himself fighting for the chance of happiness, for the chance for the right to exist. This boy was no different from anyone else Erik had encountered. He had condemned Erik as a monster, and was appalled by the thought of an angel of light like Christine being soiled by such blackness. Erik's focus slipped as he once more realized just how much more than a phantom Christine deserved. He knew he most certainly did not deserve such light. So why was he fighting so hard to obtain it?

Before Erik realized what was happening, Raoul had managed to fling his rapier from his grasp. Erik fell backwards into the snow, enraged to suddenly find himself at the mercy of the boy.

"No Raoul!" Christine shrieked in horror as she flew to the boy's side. "No." She placed her hands on his arm and he slowly lowered the sword as he glared down at Erik. Erik was breathing heavily and watching both closely.

"This must be done, Christine," Raoul growled through clenched teeth. "He has far too much power over your mind still. Even tonight, he could have stolen you away forever. Don't you understand? None of us will ever be safe, ever be at peace, until he is no more. He will kill anyone who gets in his way! You know this. So why stop me now?" Christine stared at Raoul with intense sadness, and shook her head slowly. She dropped to her knees in the snow beside Erik.

"You can't," she replied, tears forming once more in her eyes. She lightly touched her hand to Erik's cheek and he fixed her with an intense gaze as his heart crashed about in his chest. What was prompting her to stay her fiancé's hand? Pity? Or something deeper?

"Christine!" Raoul exclaimed in disbelief. "What are you doing?"

"I am saying goodbye," she answered shakily. Erik narrowed his eyes as she pulled her hand away from his face and he saw the gold band around her finger shimmer in the moonlight. "But only for the moment," she breathed the words in a whisper that only he could hear as she rose once more. Raoul angrily sheathed his sword and took hold of her as he shot Erik one last glare.

"Goodbye indeed," he snarled as he turned and led Christine away from Erik. "For the next encounter we have shall be his last." Christine glanced longingly over her shoulder as she was quietly drawn away into the winter night. Erik rose as the two of them disappeared into the mist, carried away by the white horse. He shook his head in a daze, desperately trying to process all that had just happened.

She was wearing his ring.

With a flourish of his cape, Erik retrieved his sword and made his way to the carriage that still remained at the edge of the cemetery. There was much to consider. He replayed the events in his mind, trying desperately to understand his beloved. Soon Erik came to the conclusion that it was Raoul who held some kind of power over her mind, not the Phantom. Yes, Raoul and Christine had shared a friendship in their childhood. Christine had loved him as only a child could then, and it was that childhood love she had confused for the bond she shared with Erik. His brow furrowed. Was it possible that she loved him? Her actions this night clearly demonstrated she had a fondness for him that was greater than her need to obey Raoul. And yet, she had still left with the boy.

In the months before the grand Masquerade ball, Erik had sealed himself away in the dark lair he now found himself returning to. He had worked tirelessly to complete his masterpiece, "Don Juan Triumphant". And when he had returned to the above world of the Opera Populaire, he had discovered Christine was engaged to Raoul. Yet even then, with her engagement to her childhood sweetheart, she did not wear Raoul's gaudy ring on her finger. When she had made her departure with Raoul this night, she was wearing the plain gold band set with a small red stone that Erik had given her on her ring finger.

The music box of a monkey playing the barrel organ was not the only possession Erik had managed to retain from his own childhood. He also kept that simple ring, given to his mother as an engagement ring by his father. In a desperate fit of fury with Erik's deformity and the way her marriage had turned out, Erik's mother had thrown the ring into the ashes of a fireplace. The young Erik had retrieved it, and treasured the item ever since.

He had given it to Christine that night. Despite her betrayal, despite his torrent of self-doubt, he had given his angel another part of himself. But what would she choose to do with it? She was now wearing his ring, but did that mean she had accepted the promise it held? That she had accepted him instead of the boy? She had stopped Raoul from taking his life, and she had promised a temporary farewell. Yet, she had still left with the boy. What could it possibly mean? Perhaps, Erik mused grimly as the Opera House once more came into view, perhaps she was just as confused as he was.

After returning the horses to their proper locations, Erik quietly slipped into the Opera house, weary from all that had transpired. He chose a short, hidden hallway that was concealed behind an ornate tapestry, and was at once alerted to the presence of an intruder up ahead. Candlelight flickered down the dark corridor, and Erik quickly moved forward like one of the shadows dancing along the cold stone walls of the dark hallway. It did not take long for him to catch up to the figure walking hesitantly through the darkness, and he frowned deeply when he recognized who the form belonged to.

"Mademoiselle Giry," Erik's deep voice boomed through the dark hallway, amplified by his talent at projection. The startled girl nearly dropped her candle. "You should not be here."

"M… Monsieur Opera Ghost!" Meg stammered as she clutched her candle closer and looked about with fear. "I … I am sorry!" Erik made certain that she was unable to see him, blending seamlessly with the shadows, and when he spoke again he did not attempt to hide the annoyance in his voice.

"Your curiosity could put you in very real danger someday, child." His tone was dark and threatening, although Erik would never actually harm someone so precious to both Madame Giry and Christine.

"Please, forgive me!" Meg swallowed, desperately trying to gather her courage. "I was hoping to find Christine. I could not find her anywhere, and I noticed this passageway…" She trailed off, fighting to hold her hand steady.

"Is she the only one you were hoping to find in this darkness?" His voice was laced faintly with amusement, for Erik was completely aware of the girl's fascinated curiosity with the Phantom. Meg grew so pale she looked as though she was going to fade into the walls for a moment. Defiant anger suddenly flickered through her usually kind eyes, and she straightened.

"No," she answered with shaky confidence. "I had rather hoped she would be here with _you_, Monsieur Ghost." Erik raised an eyebrow curiously.

"And why would that be, Mademoiselle?" Meg looked down, suddenly hesitant once more.

"Because," she said softly, "it would mean she was not with the Vicomte DeChagny." Erik took a step forward, out of the shadows concealing him. Why would the thought of Christine being with the boy who seemed so well suited for her concern her best friend?

"And why would you prefer your friend to be in my company instead of his?" Erik no longer projected his voice, and Meg whirled around toward the direction of the sound. She stared at him for a long moment, finding herself at last face to face with the Phantom of the Opera, and finally she realized he had asked her a question. Erik willed himself to be patient with her, aware that his appearance was certainly startling.

"Christine," Meg was visibly struggling to maintain composure, and Erik had to give her credit for being able to face him despite her fear and wonder. "Christine spoke to me of you today, Monsieur. She spoke of her engagement, and of all that she was feeling. The Vicomte has troubled her greatly in recent days, speaking only of how her feelings and memories of you were imagined. He told her that you were- forgive me for repeating it- a monster that should be feared. Christine was miserable to think of you in such a way, and she told me she was going to try to figure out what to do tonight. She did not tell me what she was planning, so I thought that perhaps she had gone to seek you."

"I see," Erik's tone was no longer intimidating, no longer threatening. He closed his eyes for a moment in thought, and then returned his piercing gaze to the girl in front of him. So that was what had led Christine to the cemetery. She had come in hopes that perhaps she could say goodbye to the memory of both her father and her Angel of Music. She had thought that was the right thing to do, after all.

"I regret to inform you that Christine is not to be found with me," he broke the silence at last. "She is indeed with the Vicomte at the moment. There is no reason for you to linger here, Mademoiselle."

"Oh," Meg stiffened again, catching the hint that her welcome was wearing thin. "Monsieur?" Erik sighed at her persisting questioning tone.

"What do you want of me, child?"

"Please," Meg's voice trembled, but she maintained her dignified composure. "Do not be upset with me, but I must tell you what is in my heart. I have heard the way Christine has spoken of both you and Raoul, and I cannot help but feel that her feelings for you are much stronger. She is simply afraid, Monsieur. I… I wanted to ask you not to give up on her just yet."

"Is that so?" Erik offered her a smile for the first time. "I can give you my word on that, Mademoiselle. There is little I can do to extinguish the hope I have for her, so giving up is not an option for me. After all, to live, is to hope." Meg returned his smile and gave him a quick curtsey.

"Goodnight, Monsieur Opera Ghost," she said as she began walking towards him to exit the hallway. He moved aside and bowed slightly as she walked past.

"Goodnight, Mademoiselle Giry," he replied. Erik continued to smirk to himself as he found his way through the darkness. If Meg Giry, Christine's best friend and confidant, believed that her heart still belonged to him, then that gave him hope indeed.

**Author's Note:** – Revised 10/2/07- I am attempting to move the plot along, but to keep it at a reasonable pace. I wish Meg's character had been more fully developed in the movie! It always seemed to me that she too had a fascination with the Phantom of the Opera, and it would make sense that she would have an idea of how to look for him in some of the secret passages of the Opera Populaire. Anyway, please let me know what you think, as reviews are always welcome.


	4. Hardly Knowing the Reasons Why

**Hardly Knowing the Reasons Why**

There was much activity brewing within the Opera Populaire. Two days had passed since the fateful encounter at the graveyard, and Erik had not been able to speak to Christine in that time period. Those two days, though such a short period of time, stirred a longing within the Phantom; stirred an ever present need to be near his Angel of light. She was not far from his thoughts at any given moment. Still, the current explosion of activity had been enough to keep Erik's attention focused. Raoul DeChagny had not taken their duel in the graveyard lightly. Indeed, he now classified the Phantom as a significant threat to both himself, and to Christine Daae's freedom. The Vicomte had demanded an immediate audience with the managers of the Opera Populaire, which he had used to convince them just how much the Phantom needed to be dealt with. Erik had been present for that meeting, albeit unseen. It was with a touch of pride that the Phantom took note of the harried way DeChagny spoke, and of the nervous way he kept shifting his gaze to the shadows, just in case the Phantom was lurking there. The boy may have defeated Erik in their duel, but he was no fool. He knew that this opera house was the Phantom's domain, and he could only guess how far the Phantom's reach into the shadows extended.

DeChagny had obviously put a lot of thought into the "Phantom problem". The boy had calmly explained to the managers that Erik was no more than a man, and as such, he could and must be killed. He was, after all, a murderer who was threatening both the patron of the Opera Populaire, and it's most promising rising star, Christine. Unfortunately, the boy also realized it would be nearly impossible to track Erik within the confines of the Opera House itself, so he had devised a plan he was certain would draw the Phantom into the open, into danger. He insisted that by performing 'Don Juan Triumphant', they would ensure his presence within a specific area. Raoul planned to station police around the stage, protecting Christine from any danger from the Phantom, as well as around the box seating and backstage. The Phantom must be present to see his work performed, and Raoul planned to be ready for his arrival.

Thinking again about the scene he had witnessed between Raoul and the managers the day before, Erik sneered. A dark look settled over the visible half of his features, and he crossed his arms over his chest. Erik was perched upon a shadowed rafter hanging over the stage, quietly observing preparations for his opera. He felt he did owe the DeCagny boy a grudging amount of credit; he was persistent. He perceived the Phantom as a threat, (rightly so) and felt that death would be the only thing to halt him. Raoul's devotion to maintaining his hold on Christine was also admirable, and for that, Erik could not begrudge the boy. Christine had captivated some part of DeChagny, and even if Erik doubted the boy had enough depth of character to truly appreciate her light, he could not blame him for fighting so hard to keep her.

The darkness of Erik's look lifted somewhat as he reviewed his own plan for opening night. Raoul's idea was certainly not bad, but it would not work out the way the Vicomte hoped. The Phantom of the Opera would again appear before the Opera Populaire, but this time, he would be performing the piece he had written for himself and for his Angel. Piangi would be easy enough to silence; Erik did not anticipate any trouble in knocking the singer out. And Christine… Christine had agreed to perform, of course. He had not been present while she had begun rehearsals, so he could not yet guess what she thought of his work. She must know it was written for her and her alone, but did she understand that only he could sing with her on that stage? Did she understand that performing the opera that night would demonstrate her willingness to truly belong to him?

No one would interfere with the Opera once it had begun, if he appeared on stage as a performer. It was doubtful the authorities would know who he was, and the other participants on stage would have enough fear of the Opera Ghost to keep them in their roles. It was possible DeChagny would identify him and attempt to instruct the authorities to take action, but Erik doubted they would attempt to kill him while performing on stage. At worst, they would storm the stage to apprehend him, but Erik was far too familiar with the workings of the opera house to be caught in such a way. If needed, he could create a distraction that would surpass the most detailed planning of the Vicomte. Erik's misty eyes drifted up to the grand chandelier that dominated the arched ceiling. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Indeed, he could create havoc that would elevate the Phantom's status from a rumored myth to legendary.

The sound of Christine's voice chimed in Erik's ears, pulling him away from his darker thoughts. He glanced down and located his angel speaking with Meg as the pair entered the stage.

"It is such a strange opera, Christine," Meg was speaking in an uncertain voice. "I have only reviewed the dancing outlines for the first act, and I know that mother strongly disapproves of the movements we are to enact. She insists that it is shockingly inappropriate, and has been quietly criticizing them since rehearsal began." Erik smirked at Meg's words. Madam Giry's disapproval came as no surprise, and yet her devotion to her position obliged her to direct the movements as Erik had written. She would stay true to his work, he knew.

"I know it is strange," Christine responded distantly. "And so much more than strange. This opera resonates so strongly of _him_, that I can scarcely rehearse without…"

"Without what?" An intruding voice interrupted Christine's train of thought, and Erik felt anger sizzle inside him. Raoul had been lurking about onstage lately, convinced that because he was the Opera Populaire's patron and he had concocted a plan against Erik's life, that he had the right to roam about and oversee all aspects of production. Erik held little doubts that the boy was also attempting to stay as close to Christine as possible at all times, to prevent any further encounters with the Phantom.

"Oh, hello Vicomte," Meg bobbed her head politely, and Erik watched as Christine visibly stiffened. Raoul vaguely acknowledged Meg's presence by returning her head nod, and the ballerina uncomfortably backed away to allow Raoul and Christine to speak alone.

"Without what, Christine?" Raoul's voice was soft with concern, and he reached out to touch Christine's face. Erik felt his breath catch as he resisted the urge to leap down and pull his angel away. "My love, are you frightened? I can't imagine what it must be like for you, rehearsing and preparing to perform in _his _work." Christine did not draw away from him, although she did raise her dark eyes to meet his.

"What have I to be frightened of, Raoul?" Christine's voice sounded strained. He leaned closer, confusion briefly flitting across his features.

"You said yourself the Phantom frightens you, my darling." Raoul spoke with compassion, and Erik felt his possessive anger rising with each passing moment. "Now you are performing, rehearsing his work, knowing that somewhere, he may be watching you still. You have tried so long to convince me how frightening he is, and I only regret I did not understand your warnings sooner. I don't know how I can apologize to you, Christine." She held his gaze for a long moment, then slowly shook her head.

"I did try to convince you, but you wouldn't understand until you saw him yourself," she said quietly. "And yes, I was indeed frightened then. I was overwhelmed and confused, and also shocked that he was capable of murder. The Phantom of the Opera is a terrifying man, secretive and dangerous. And yet, I do not fear this performance. I again have the chance to perform on the stage that I love, and I know that no harm will come to me during the show. Think of it Raoul – do you honestly believe he would allow something to disrupt his masterpiece being performed? Frightened? No. I am not frightened of what he may do." Her eyes flicked back up to meet Raoul's sharply, and her voice tightened. "However, I dislike what you are planning to turn the performance into. I feel as though I am being used as bait."

"What else can be done, love?" Raoul's tone was pleading. "I have done all I can to ensure your safety, and if we can capture the Phantom on opening night, it will do just that. He will not let us be, just as you have said. If we are ever to be together in peace, this must be dealt with and put behind us."

"You are asking me to knowingly betray a man I've known since childhood. You are asking me to betray the man who has helped me to realize one of my dearest dreams. I understand that he is dangerous, I understand he has killed and that is inexcusable. I understand…" her voice trailed off, and Erik strained to hear her words to no avail. He felt his heart sinking in a whirl of confusion and regret. Had he known killing Buquet would cause such a disturbance in his angel, he never would have done it.

"I am sorry, Christine." Raoul pulled her into an embrace that she did not shy away from. "I am so sorry I did not believe you before, and I am sorry you must be faced with this now. But you must realize it is not you who are betraying him. _He_ betrayed _you_, by leading you to believe he was something he isn't, and by taking such drastic steps to control you, to hold you to him. Those are not the actions of someone who truly cares for you – those are the actions of someone who is obsessive, of someone who is fighting for his own happiness above yours. I know it pains you, but this is the only way to be free of him."

Raoul DeChagny's words cut into Erik's soul with the sharpness of truth. His anger was stilled as he slowly realized the boy had just voiced the very same insecurities that had been growing in the back of the Phantom's mind for some time now. Obsessive. Self-focused. Wishing to have Christine to himself, despite any consequences she may face. He could not deny these accusations.

"And whose happiness do _you_ seek?" Christine's voice trembled lightly as she withdrew from the embrace.

"Ours," Raoul replied with certainty. "I seek happiness for both of us. I am pained to see your discomfort in this horrible mess, Christine, and I am doing what I can to relieve you of it. Once the Phantom has been removed from our lives, we may move forward, into the light you asked me to give you. After this, you will never be forced to perform on this stage again. We may go anywhere you wish, and you could pursue your career if you like, but this Opera Populaire may be left behind us."

"Never perform here again?" Christine was clearly startled by this idea.

"Surely you wouldn't want to remain here!" Raoul was incredulous at her surprise. "With all these bad memories, the only way to truly move on with our life together is to put this behind us. Trust me to lead you, darling. Once we are wed, I can provide anything you wish, so you won't have to perform at all if you don't want to."

"I cannot stop singing," Christine spoke strongly. "It would be impossible for me to abandon this music thriving in my heart."

"Of course not," Raoul smiled and spoke lightly, not understanding quite how serious Christine was.

"And as for completely abandoning this place that has been my home for so long…"

"Excuse me Monsieur," Madam Giry's strong voice interrupted Christine's train of thought. She stood behind Christine, fixing Raoul with her intense gaze. Erik watched Christine closely, startled to see that she was lightly fingering the plain gold band on her left hand.

"Madame Giry," Raoul greeted politely, nodding his head.

"It is past time for Christine to begin her rehearsals for the day," Madame Giry placed a hand on Christine's shoulder. "Forgive my interruption, but you may speak with her later. You are free to remain and observe activities here of course, but I'm afraid I can't allow you to be detaining rehearsals any longer."

"Of course, Madame," Raoul turned his gaze to Christine for a lingering moment before bowing to both of them and moving on.

Watching Madame Giry lead Christine away as well, Erik also withdrew. His thoughts and emotions were racing, moving too fast for him to make much sense of how he was feeling. The only way for him to return to a state of normalcy would be for him to work through the chaos in his heart through music. Erik returned to his lair, his dark home, and forced his thoughts into his organ, creating music that reflected his chaos.

By the time reality again crept into Erik's soul and his music came to a halt, night had fallen. Erik had lost himself in his composition again, and he felt much better for it. He had been faced with a significant question: what was he doing to put Christine's happiness before his own? He had finally reasoned out that question by recognizing that he wished to help her pursue her talents, to thrive on the music he knew she adored. Yes, he wished for nothing but to be near her, and yes, he was obsessive. But she had certainly not pushed him away completely.

She was still wearing his ring.

Christine felt a draw to him that she could not deny. Yes, she had questioned this draw by the appearance of Raoul DeCagny, and yet she still wore the ring Erik had given her. That simple action promised that she wanted to be with Erik instead of the Vicomte, did it not? Erik's confidence swelled as Meg's words from several nights back echoed through his mind. Even her best friend had told him not to give up hope on Christine, for she was convinced that Erik would be the better choice for Christine's happiness.

She was still wearing his ring.

This knowledge more than any other fought back any insecurities threatening Erik's heart. However, the doubts in his mind were a little too insistent to be ignored completely. It was time for him to speak with Christine, and ask her what it was she was feeling, and ask her what she wanted. _Why_ was she still wearing his ring? This question was humming through Erik's mind as he rose from his organ, and made his way to the world above his lair. Christine had been faced with some difficult soul searching as well, he was certain, and the chances of her being in the chapel were high. He would speak to her there.

"Erik," a familiar voice hissed at him before he could ascend the winding steps leading up to the isolated chapel. He stiffened and turned to face the only person who could anticipate and detect his movements within the opera house, and stepped partially into the light.

"Madame Giry," he replied in a cold tone.

"I must speak with you," the woman stepped up to him, completely unaffected by his intimidating presence. "Please come with me." Erik narrowed his eyes in momentary displeasure. He did not wish to be delayed in speaking with Christine. Madame Giry saw his expression and sighed as she turned away. "Christine has not arrived in the chapel yet, and was speaking with the Vicomte moments ago when I left her. I am fairly certain, however, that you will be able to find her here later. Now, please come with me." With that, the ballet mistress walked down the hallway, heading towards her own small room. Erik followed her at a distance and in shadow; remaining silent and unseen by anyone they passed by. Once they had reached the safety of Madame Giry's bedroom, she locked the door behind her strange guest.

"What is it?" Erik spoke impatiently, and leaned against the wall as he crossed his arms over his chest. Madame Giry took a seat at the chair in front of her plain vanity, and met his intense gaze with one of her own.

"You spoke with Meg recently," she did not phrase it as a question, so Erik felt no need to verify the statement with a response. "You have never revealed yourself to her before. I am aware that she has attempted to trespass into your domain in the past, but I still do not understand why you showed yourself to her."

"Does it upset you?" Erik responded with a challenging tone. "I did not frighten her too badly. So what is the problem?" Madame Giry's eyes flashed with anger, and she raised a hand to her head as though to sooth an approaching headache.

"Are you truly that blind?" she replied in exasperation. "You must have seen Meg's intense fascination with you over the years."

"And?" Erik was losing his patience. "Speak plainly, Madame."

"I fear that Meg's interest in you goes farther than simple curiosity," she responded sharply. "She loves Christine as a sister, but she has always been somewhat jealous that you have chosen Christine and not her. Your appearance at the Masquerade was the first time Meg was actually able to see you, and her feelings towards you have been growing. Last night was unacceptable, for now I fear that she is growing depressed at her interest in someone Christine may have feelings for." Erik remained silent for a moment, surprise clearly registering on the visible portion of his face.

"She told me to pursue Christine," he replied at last, the coldness evaporating from his tone. "I most certainly did not get the impression that…"

"That she might be falling in love with you?" Madame Giry did not attempt to hide the anger in her voice. "Erik, I have allowed you to do what you wish in regards to Christine, who I have raised as my own. But I will not allow you to claim the hearts of _both_ my daughters!" Erik was silent for a moment, and closed his eyes in thought.

"I was not aware of the situation," he spoke softly. "And now that I am, what would you have me do?" He opened his misty eyes to meet those of his oldest friend. He had never intended to hurt Meg, even indirectly. He had certainly never considered that her fascination with him went deeper than simple curiosity, and the knowledge that it might unsettled him deeply.

"Speak to Christine," she replied. "The poor child is utterly confused by your actions of late, and is wrestling with her own feelings for you. She believes it would be foolish to turn down Raoul's offer of marriage and walk away from a life of comfort and love. However, her attachment to you runs deep, and she is loathe to abandon it. If you love her, tell her so. Tell her what you would offer her if she chooses you over the Vicomte. Give her something to hold onto when she struggles to imagine a future with you. If you wish to marry that girl, tell her so, don't simply give her a ring and walk away. If you are clear about your intentions for Christine, it will hurt Meg, but she can accept it. It will also give Christine some peace of mind, and help her make a choice. You cannot be mysterious and ambiguous when it comes to love, Opera Ghost. It has only caused Christine more pain and confusion than anything else."

Erik felt his heart tighten at the stinging words. He did not doubt Madame Giry, but he certainly didn't realize that he had caused such a dilemma for his beloved.

"Very well," Erik sighed. "I shall speak with her, and be quite direct."

"Thank you," Madame Giry nodded to him, relief in her face. "I know this is difficult for you as well, my friend."

"Goodnight," was Erik's only response, as he turned and left her room. A thousand thoughts cascaded through his mind, and he fought to push them all aside. He wanted to marry Christine. But what _could _he offer her as a future? This question was foremost in his mind as Erik returned to the chapel, taking his usual place in a hollow behind one wall. There was a brick missing, which enabled him to see into the chapel without being seen. Christine was already there, kneeling in her usual position before a small array of flickering candles. As though sensing his presence, Christine looked up into the flames as Erik entered. To his surprise, she lifted her angelic voice in song, for him.

_Angel of Music_  
_Please stay with me_  
_Come to me strange Angel_

Erik drew in a sharp breath. She indeed knew he was there. After a moment's hesitation, he answered her song softly.

**Christine**  
**Christine…**

Sudden courage came upon Erik as he looked at Christine's candlelit face. Yes, he could speak to her here, safe behind a wall and hidden from view. But she deserved something more solid than that. Silently, Erik drifted away from his hiding place, circling to the stairs and the doorway leading directly to the chapel. He would not leave Christine to be speaking with a disembodied voice. He was no angel- he was simply Erik, after all. Erik silently entered the chapel to find that Christine had bowed her head.

_Angel I seek you_  
_Please protect me_  
_Stay by my side_  
_Guide me_

Slowly, Erik moved inside the chapel, and he sank to his knees behind his angel. She gasped in shock as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, holding her precious warmth close to him.

**Christine…**

He called her name softly as he held her locked in his embrace. She leaned her head back against his shoulder and closed her eyes, her breathing growing deeper.

"You are wearing my ring, Christine," he spoke gently into her ear, and he felt the strength draining from her small form as she nearly went limp in his arms.

"Yes," she answered weakly. Erik watched as she fingered it once more, feeling all his insecurity melting away in the warmth of this moment.

"I want you to be with me," he said at last, ignoring the nervousness beginning to squirm in his stomach. "I want you to be mine alone, always." He wondered dimly if she could feel his heart hammering in his chest. "After all, my dear, it is a wedding ring."

**Author's Note: **-Revised 10/16/07-

**Review replies:**

_Elphie89_: Thank you so much for your kind reviews thus far. Oddly enough, I started out absolutely hating Raoul's character, but I've changed my position quite a bit since then. Reading the book by Leroux helped with that I suppose. I don't think he's quite as one sided as he seems, and I kind of like him. However, my love for the Phantom far surpasses my sympathy for Raoul's character… )

_Phantomphorever_: Thank you for your reviews! Yes, this story does indeed emphasize on the conflict Christine is feeling for her attraction to the Phantom. He's done some pretty horrible things, and it's hard to overlook that. It's not going to be easy for her to just pretend he's normal and perfect. However, he's worth fighting for!

_Venomlover_: Thank you for your reviews! I am trying quite hard to provide depth to the character's thoughts and motivations, and to keep things somewhat realistic. I'm glad you liked what I did with Meg – her character fascinates me to some degree, so I have to keep her in the story.

_Lady Moon Dragon_: I appreciate the kind reviews! There are several places in the story where I just paused and thought… what if things went differently? The graveyard scene was one of those that perplexed me the most, which is how this story was born.

_Paola A_.: Thank you so much for your review! As I had mentioned, I'm attempting to re-write this story (which is several years old) to improve my writing style. I am glad you are enjoying it so far, and I hope you like what happens next. )

_Katherine Silverhair_: I'm so happy you've stopped in to read this story and leave a comment for me. I was just browsing through your profile the other day, and was delighted to realize you're a fan of Harry Potter as well. (I didn't realize that before, since I've only recently been drawn into loving the story of HP). I will be happily reading through your works in my spare time, have little doubt. I'm sure you'll be seeing more reviews from me soon. )

_PhanPhicPhantastic, Chaos Babe, lady wen, Cookie222, Allie, Genevive Lee_: Thank you all for your reviews, and I do hope you continue to read and enjoy this story.


	5. Promise Me

**Promise me**

"Erik…" Christine breathed his name softly, sending electricity surging through Erik's veins. He tightened his embrace around her delicate shoulders as she leaned back against him completely for support. "I'm so confused, Erik." Christine's voice was strained, and Erik suddenly understood her exhaustion. Madame Giry had been right. His poor Christine was lost in her confusion about her future, and her feelings for him and the Vicomte. Trying to think through things had taken its toll on her, leaving her very spirit depleted of its usual energy.

"I love you," Erik spoke quietly, but his voice was solid with certainty. She was also confused about his intentions and what he was offering, which he planned to deal with right now. Christine lifted her hands to rest them on Erik's arms around her shoulders, tightly clinging to him in response. "I have always loved you," Erik continued, encouraged by her silent reply. "That is why I have always come to you, stayed with you through all these years. I wanted to save you from the pain of loneliness I know so well, and I wanted you to see how beautiful you are. You shine, Christine, and I've seen it for so long. You have given light to my darkness, and I love you with all that I am. I wish to be with you, always." He felt Christine grow tense in his arms, and he allowed her to pull away from him. When she turned to face him, her dark eyes shone with the tears streaming down her beautiful face.

"Oh angel," Christine's voice trembled. "Erik. You… I didn't really realize. For so long, I thought you were an angel of music, sent to be my friend and interested primarily in the development of my voice and my career. I loved you, loved the idea of you. I saw you as my guardian, my protector, my friend. I…" A smile crept upon her features in spite of herself, as she wiped at her tears. "I used to dream that you were more than an angel, that you would materialize one day and marry me. I've loved you for so long… and then I discovered you were a man." The smile faded, and Christine's face darkened again. Erik felt his heart wince at her look. Not only was he a man… he was a monster.

"I am sorry for misleading you, Christine," he lowered his gaze, unable to meet hers. "I knew no other way to be close to you." Her sigh brought his eyes upwards, and her expression was still worn and tired.

"I've known you for so many years, Erik, and yet I feel as though you are a stranger." Christine swallowed, trying to piece together her thoughts. "Do you understand how hard this has been for me to think through? I thought you were an angel, sent just for me. I thought you were watching over this opera house, moving to help it improve in your own way. I've always known you were the same as the phantom. But I never knew you were a man. Do you understand what kinds of questions I've had? I've wondered how you were able to hide so well. I've wondered why you live underneath the opera house and don't let anyone know you're real. I've wondered why you took interest in me. I've wondered how you came to be here, what your story is. Yes, I was frightened to find you were a man, instead of an angel. That brought several disturbing questions forth in my mind. And yet… I was relieved, because it made you so… so real. And it makes that fantasy I had of being with you…" She trailed off, color rising in her cheeks.

Erik was silent, closely observing her face. Each question she had raised was certainly valid, and he knew in time he would reveal those answers to her if she desired. Still, one thing she said bothered him.

"You know me better than any other," he spoke quietly. "All those nights in this chapel, those stories I used to tell you… I have revealed the better parts of my soul to you, Christine. Especially through my music. You saw me for what was inside, for I did not allow you to see my exterior. And you were my friend. We are not strangers, Christine. Never that."

"And I have seen the darker parts of your soul," Christine's voice grew thick. "Your anger with me when I took off your mask showed me that. And you… you killed a man! Yes, I suppose I have seen much of who you are."

"Why do you wear this?" Erik hesitantly took her left hand in both of his, lightly touching the ring. He would not justify his darker actions, for there was no justification to make. He had wrought darkness and evil in the world, and Buquet was not the only man he had killed. Yes, he had darkness. But if she saw that, his question burned ever brighter in his mind.

"Because I can't imagine my life without you," her voice hitched as tears returned to her dark eyes. "I love Raoul, Erik. I truly, truly do. He was my dear friend long ago, and he has been a dear friend to me again in the past several months. I could indeed marry him, but wouldn't I lose you in the process? He plans to take your life. You've killed a man, and Raoul is _planning_ to kill a man. Both of you are so terribly wrong…"

"What would you do, Christine?" Erik drew in a breath, trying to keep his emotions in check. He wanted nothing more but to pull her to him, to comfort her and offer her assurances of her happiness now and always. But he needed to allow her the space to choose. To reason things out. "I would allow you to marry him, if you wanted. I will not allow him to kill me, of course, but I would do whatever you wished if it would make you happy. Even if you choose to reject both of us, I will still be here, in this place. And if you choose to be my wife, I will do anything to make you happy as well. I offer you my love, my music, and my very soul, Christine. That is everything I have to give."

"As I have said before," Christine spoke slowly. "You possess me. Even under the guise of granting me freedom of choice, you hold my heart in your grasp. I have loved you so, for so long… But fear drove me from you. Fear and reason should be driving me from you still. Yet I remain here, crouched on the floor of the chapel before you, unable to contemplate getting up and walking out that door. And still my mind screams with a hundred reasons to do just that. Your soul is tainted, Erik. Your life is one of shadow. So I don't understand why it seems the very light would leave mine if I left you behind."

"I ask again, Christine," Erik's voice grew strained, and he rose to face the stained glass angel in the window. "What do you want? You know what I have to offer you, and you now know my feelings. What would you ask me to do?"

The silence that followed was nearly unbearable. Long moments passed, seeming to stretch the distance between the two inhabitants of the chapel. Erik turned to look down at her, and he felt somehow exposed beneath the strange weight of her gaze. His heart stilled when she responded to his question in song.

_Say you'll love me every waking moment_  
_Turn my head with talk of music's flight_  
_Say you need me with you now and always_  
_Promise me that all you say is true_  
_That's all I ask of you_

Erik drew in a deep breath as she rose to fix him with a level gaze. His surprise, his hope, his heart was now clearly visible on his face as Erik immediately placed the song that Christine had sang with Raoul that night months ago. This was her answer? Was this her way of choosing him over the boy? He knew beyond doubt that he would do anything she asked of him, forever and always. There was a slight tremble in his voice as he responded to her song with words of his own.

**Let me be your shelter**  
**Let me be your night**  
**You're safe, I am beside you**  
**Your tears are far behind you**

_All I want is your love_  
_A path into your night_  
_And you, always beside me_  
_To hold me and to guide me_

Tentatively, Erik reached out to his ange, and gently laid his hands to rest on her shoulders. His heart was burning inside him. It did not matter that he had experienced such suffering the last time he had wittenssed Christine sing this tune. It did not matter that he had felt so betrayed by her on that cold, snowy night. It did not matter that he felt unworthy to be receiving her song right now. All he knew now was happiness, an unfamilair light in his dark soul.

"Angel…" Christine breathed the word, sending an electricty through Erik's blood. "No," she shook her head softly. "Erik. You are Erik, a man. A man…" Her hand gently touched his mask, and he knew an instant of cold fear. Not a man. A monster. He found himself paralyzed as she slowly pulled the mask from his face, and his eyes closed in that terrifying moment. He felt her eyes upon him, able to see the wreched deformity that had shaped so much of his life, and that condemned him to live in shadow. This was the deformity that God had saw fit to curse him with, abandoning him to a life of solitude.

His heart flared to life once more when he felt Christine pressing herself agaist him, her arms wrapping around to embrace him. Her cheek rested against his chest, and shaking, he lowered his arms to return her embrace, holding her to him.

"Your heart is beating so quickly," Christine murmured softly. Erik drew in a breath.

"You seem to have that effect on me, my dear," he replied quietly.

"I think I want this," Christine sighed contentedly. "This feels so right somehow, and yet my mind is telling me this is not the way things should be. My soul cries out for you, Erik, and I fear that I am powerless to walk away from you."

"You posess me," Erik echoed her words from earlier. Christine pushed away from him to study him with an intense stare.

"You say you love me," Christine's dark eyes shone with an expression Erik could not quite read. He merely nodded in response. "Erik, I have been praying about you, about us, ever since I realized you were a man. My soul has not been granted peace about the situation until this moment. I believe…" Her cheeks slowly flushed as she paused to gather her thoughts. "I believe we are promised to one another. I believe we are meant to be together."

"If you wish it, I will not leave you," Erik replied quietly. A sad smile crept onto Christine's face.

"No, Erik," She shook her head. "It is not I who wish it. I'm terrified by what I feel for you. However, I believe God wishes it, and it must be so." Erik's eyes were blank, as he was unable to furnish a reply. If she wanted to believe that, he certainly was not going to argue, if it led her to be with him.

"I will wear your ring," she continued. "It is a promise. I will be your wife, if God wills it to be so. But in the meantime, I require a promise from you."

"Anything," he answered.

"Promise me that you will _never _kill again." Christine's gaze was almost challenging. She knew she could not expect him to understand the faith she had in God's plan at this moment. She could not ask him to blindly follow her into a faith he did not share. It was not her responsibility to convert his heart – God could handle that on His own. However, she could not bring herself to know she was promised to someone with the capacity to kill whenever the mood struck him. He had violated laws of man and God, and this still caused turmoil in her heart. Erik was silent for a long moment, meeting her gaze with those misty eyes of his.

"I promise." Erik's voice was calm and steady, although his thoughts were anything but. Cold anger had immediately sprang to life, indignant that she would make such a request of him. He lived as he did because he had been left with no choice. All she could see was the wrongness in his actions of killing Buquet, and she could not see the justice in it. Still, he knew he could deny her nothing, and he could sense how important this request was to her.

"And one other thing," Christine swallowed before going on, knowing that she was possibly pushing him a little too far.

"Yes?"

"I need you to return the ring Raoul gave me." Erik drew in a deep breath, and she could feel his arms grow tense around her. "I must return it to him," she explained. "I must break off our engagement and give him closure. I fear he will not accept my engagement to you so easily, but I owe him the truth. I can only pray he accepts it and wishes for my – our – happiness."

"As you ask," he spoke softly, although his tone was intense. "I shall return it to you when next we meet." His defensiveness melted as soon as he saw her smile, relief on her beautiful face.

"Thank you," she whispered, placing her fingers gently on his marred face. Wonder sparked through his mind, splintering into disbelief that she could look upon, and even touch, the same face that had driven so many away from him in horror. Still smiling, Christine leaned forward, and gently pressed her lips to his. Erik's world froze in a moment lasting an instant and a lifetime.

"I love you," Christine breathed, pulling away from him with a genuine smile. "I've loved you for so long… And now God has finally answered my prayer that you be solid, real. I will marry you, and we will create such music…" Christine's smile was suddenly interrupted by the light of memory flashing through her mind. "Oh!" she exclaimed, suddenly alarmed. "There is something I must tell you!"

"What is it, angel?" Erik could not quite bring himself to shatter the peace she had given his soul in the past few moments, despit her alarm.

"On the night we are to perform your opera, Raoul has created an arrangement with the local police force. He plans for officers to be positioned throughout the theater, the house, and backstage in an attempt to capture, or perhaps even kill you!" Erik smiled gently and lightly brushed a curl of her dark hair behind her ear.

"I know," he answered softly. "I have heard of their plans. And I assure you, I am well prepared for it. I have my own surprises for that night in mind. And who knows? Perhaps your Vicomte will not carry out his plan when you inform him of our engagement." Christine winced.

"I don't think he's going to take the news well," she sighed. "And I cannot blame him. I feel so shallow, Erik. Breaking off an engagement with him and so quickly promising to spend the rest of my life with you instead seems so… so fickle. And yet I cannot fight this feeling in my soul… and I know this is God's intentions. I just have a bad feeling that our path is not going to be easy."

"We will face it together, love." Erik traced her cheek with his finger, reveling in the softness of her skin. She smiled again, and his heart soared. "It grows late, my dear. You must get some rest."

"Yes," Christine nodded, the smile not leaving her face. Her eyes were shining happily in the glittering candlelight. "I shall be rehearsing for _your_ Opera tomorrow." Erik returned her smile, his heart feeling light. He wondered briefly if she realized that he would be the joining her on stage opening night, instead of Piangi. "Will you be here, waiting for me after rehearsal tomorrow night?"

"Of course," he answered. "Always." That had been part of their routine for years – he would wait to encourage or critique her after rehearsals, to help her train her voice and improve. Erik gathered his shaky confidence in Christine's promise to him, forcing himself to truly believe that she wanted to marry him. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her with a much fiercer passion than their first kiss had possessed. When the dizzying moment ended, Erik straightened with composure. "Now go on, Christine. Get some rest." He nodded toward the small chapel doorway. Christine lingered for a moment, her heart pounding furiously, but at last she moved to go.

"Good night, my angel," she whispered over her shoulder.

"Good night," he echoed her whisper and watched her vanish from sight.

After a long moment of silence, Erik slowly sank to the floor.

_Happiness. _

The nearly foreign word echoed through his mind as he closed his eyes and let his head drop forward. He had been denied all chance of true happiness throughout his years of miserable existence, and now all the hope in the world was placed before him. Perhaps, he thought distantly as he gazed about the small chapel, perhaps this was God's way of making amends. God had cursed him before he had ever been born, condemning as a monster. But maybe, just maybe, He was trying to at last grant Erik what had never before been allowed. A miracle was the only thing that could explain what had happened that night.

Only a miracle could explain Christine's promise to stay with him always. Only a miracle could explain the presence of the most beautiful angel in Heaven coming down to earth and allowing a demon such as himself to hold her in his arms. Only a miracle could have granted him what he had never dreamed possible. Erik rose at last, stooping for a moment to retrieve the fallen mask and place it once more upon his distorted features. Erik took his leave of the chapel in a haze. As he passed through the dark corridors of the sleeping opera house, Erik whispered a prayer for the first time in over a decade.

It was a prayer of thanks.

**A/N**: -Revised on November 13, 2007- So I'm doing a significant rewrite of the original story. I guess the first version of this tale lacked depth of character, which simply won't do. I don't want things to be easy for our couple – that's just not realistic! So I'm trying to make changes of heart seem to have a little more substance to them. I'm now curious to see where this story decides to take me… Apologies for taking so long to get this chapter up. Life kind of got in the way!

**Review Replies**:

_Elphie89_: I wonder if people have written crossovers for Star Wars and PoTO? That's quite odd… Anyway, thanks for dropping a comment by for the story!

_Venomlover_: No worries: I'm not capable of NOT writing EC. It HAS to turn out that way, or it doesn't turn out at all. Still, I think there's enough basis to at least show that Meg has an interest in Erik… and who knows? Perhaps Meg's mama is just being a tad overprotective? (Or maybe not, considering Erik is a tad crazy.) Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, and thank you for reviewing!

_TruthQuestor_: Well, I figure that Meg just has a fascination with the _concept _of the Phantom, and now that she know's he's a real person, it's only been fueled. There's always a chance Mme. Giry could be misinterpreting things just a little, you know? Infatuation and truly caring about someone are a little different. Anyway, I'm glad you reviewed, and I hope you like the story! (Oh, and I like Raoul too, so I'm going to strive to be kind to his character.)

_Lady Moon Dragon_: Oh, thank you for such energetic reviews!! You made me smile. :) Hopefully this update came soon enough for you – although it did take me a while to get around to. I don't know if I think Meg is _in love _with Erik since she doesn't know him, but I think she's infatuated with the Phantom, which is easily confusible. I'm not sure what role Meg's feelings will have in the story – but it will be significant. I hope you liked this chapter.

_IsisMoon_ and _Cookie222_: Thanks for the reviews! Please keep reading, and I hope you like the story:)


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